This was the final push that allowed the Amoraks to agree with the Collector, and they all uttered low, non-threatening growls in affirmation.

The Collector, with the white shard atop its head, could understand their words, for the Amorak possessed sufficient primal density above the twenty percent threshold that allowed the Collector to easily communicate with them and even seemingly exert an influence upon them.

It seemed that any creatures that had sufficient primal density understood somewhat the nature of the shard upon the Collector and granted it deference, though deference was not the same as obeyance.

For now, however, the Collector determined that the Amorak were sufficiently beholden to the Collector, though not to the same degree as the goblins were because the Collector could not exert Higher Calling upon them.

Thus, the Collector still kept the option of immediately taking back the Breath of Life reanimation it had granted them at a moment's notice if it found that their loyalty was faulty.

"The carrier unit and the elite specimen know the approximate location of where the conquering force will be," said the Collector to the Amorak pack. "Now that you possess stamina that can consistently be replenished, your travel speed should be considerable enough to reach them in two days worth of travel."

The Collector mentally projected its command to the three elites, and they stepped forwards to the Amoraks.

"Inform them of the conquering force's movements. Have this pack convene with the conquering force at the location of the Frostfish goblin tribe whilst taking an arcing path from northwest to south for optimal and extended coverage under Grain so as to prevent tinkering interferences," said the Collector.

The elites were privy to the general movement patterns and future battle plans that the Collector had formulated, so they were more than capable of enlightening the Amorak pack of what to do and where to go.

"And you, great Sovnar?" said Goromir. "What will you do in the meantime?"

The Collector focused ahead, northwards, where 500 kilometers ahead, the great mountains of the Rift arose. They were covered by Grain, but their size was so prodigious that they showed even from this distance.

This was the next great obstacle for the Collector challenge.

"I will scout ahead," said the Collector simply as it began to hover in the air. Red mana particulates started to flicker around it as wind and snow swirled beneath it as it generated power. Then, its twin wings of crimson energy flared to its sides, and it was gone, shooting into the distance at such a speed that within moments, it was a fading blur in the distance.

"That's our Sovnar!" said Thokk to the Amorak as he pointed a finger to where the Collector had flown. "Strong and fast. Don't know why you challenge him, heh."

==Conquering Force==

Thragg and his fourteen champions trekked their way across Fjall in a march of resolute determination. Though they could still eat and hunger, they could go without food and drink for days and days, perhaps a week, perhaps even forever, so long as the Sovnar kept them alive with his magical energy.

At first, Thragg had wanted to use this and marched them force without any stops, but complaints had forced him to reconsider.

Thragg had the will and commitment to cast away his physical desires and push forward, but the others were not the same.

It had always been like this, though.

Even before the Sovnar had ascended the tribe, Thragg had been different.

He was among the few goblin young that took the time to listen to the elder's rambling stories, picking up moments of excitement and wonder in the sea of memories the elder had committed to himself.

He was perhaps the only one aside from Hrunt, the next in line to be elder, to have greatly respected the elder even with his frailty and weakness.

For the elder represented the beyond.

Always, Thragg had wanted to be more than what he was. He heard the elder's stories about goblin kingdoms and old ages and champions and elites and lords and kings and heroes, and he wanted to be that. He did not want to spend his entire life hiding and scavenging.

Thragg's mind was simpler back then, but even then, he knew this. He had not been able to conceptualize it as well, but when he went on hunts with the hobs, when he fought for meat, when he hid from monsters and adventurers, he had always thought: why was he doing this?

What was the point of living like this?

To eat, sleep, have a child or two, then grow old and die?

Was that it?

That was why Thragg had been resolutely determined to kill the champion of the tribe at the time, training and honing his skills, and once he had the tribe under his control, he would try his best to be like the goblins the elder spoke of in yore, rallying a large force of other goblins.

Back then, Thragg had thought maybe he had desired power. Power over many goblins. Power to raid humans.

But that was not it.

It was now that Thragg realized that the question he asked himself had shifted to this: who would remember him?

Thragg wanted to be remembered, and he wanted to be remembered far and wide not because of a sense of pride, though that might have factored into it, but because of a sense of purpose. He was given life, now a second one, and what was the point of life if there was not a great purpose to fulfill?

A great purpose that all would remember Thragg for?

This was what Thragg wanted when he thought about being more than he was. He wanted to be remembered. For future generations of elders to speak of him as one who had changed the course of history and made his mark upon the whole vast wide world.

That was why Thragg had respected the elder so. The elder had the beyond within him, in his mind where he kept the memories of eras and goblins past far beyond the rotting of their corpses.

The Sovnar had given Thragg a new life, a new purpose, and thus, a new chance to be remembered.

Thragg would not waste it.

Still, that did not mean the other goblins had the same level of conviction as Thragg. They were loyal to the Sovnar, yes, but their wills varied in strength.

At the least, it was easy enough to hunt for food now, and Thragg used the same method the Sovnar did before he had granted Thragg his flames.

Using the flames Thragg could generate, he lured in Snow Sprites, and the Snow Sprites lured in animals that looked for shelter from the cold. He regulated the output of the flames so that it would not attract too many Snow Sprites so that humans would not appear, for the Sovnar was absolutely clear that no interaction with humans should be made.

Even so, Thragg did not coddle them. He pushed them as much as he could, and in good pace, he made it back to the Snowmound that they had first met the Sovnar at.

There was no winter storm this time, but it was around the same time.

Afternoon. A few hours before the sun set and the Shadows became a danger.

The fateful time when the Sovnar had appeared with overwhelming might and slaughtered their champion in an instant.

When Thragg had seen that happen, when he was one of the hobgoblins standing in circle around the Sovnar and the champion, he had felt awe.

Awe beyond measure.

Once, Thragg had thought the elder the greatest symbol of the beyond, but no, that had not been it. His world view had simply been too small.

The Sovnar represented the beyond far, far better.

The Sovnar was light. Overwhelming might. And, as Thragg could sense, a bearer of great purpose, his every single move and action driven towards a singular goal, a purpose invested into him that he fulfilled absolutely.

That was the kind of purpose that Thragg had always desired. And, as Thragg heard more of the Great Purpose, of how it was meant to stand against the eternal dark that threatened the entire world, he knew that it was a purpose he was proud to devote himself to.

For what better way to be remembered than to stave off a dark to end all things? If it would mean giving his life to the purpose to save this world, to carve the memory of his noble sacrifice to all, to never truly die and fade away in memory, he would gladly give up his life.

The Snowmound, as expected, was occupied.

Thragg could trace the scent of goblins. This was no surprise. The Frostskull tribe that Thragg belonged to had taken the mount from the Frostfish tribe, and with their absence, the Frostfish tribe had taken it back.

But that was back during the time of petty tribal quarrels.

It was now time for the Frostfish tribe to join the Sovnar in Great Purpose beyond themselves.